Chapter 1: The Bottom of the Glass
The stench of alcohol and berries blanketed the air, cloaking the inhabitants of the Oran Aura with sweaty musk and fermented drinks. Seats were filled with chatting citizens of Sunrise City as rescue teams of all badges relaxed within those oaken walls. Faded, historical tapestries clung to the wall, weighted by the alcoholic musk in the air. Behind the bar, a lively Larvitar danced from shelf to shelf, joining the chorus of drunken 'mon with their heartful songs all while mixing tonics for patrons requesting to ease the burdens of the stress and fatigue.
Stopping at one customer, he slides a filled glass of Sitrus Cider to a hulking Typhlosion. Muscle and fat warred over the motley body, a clash of seasoned adventurer with drunken laziness of recent years. The fire-type proceeded to catch the sloshing glass as it was skimmed across the stone counter. In one swift action, the Typhlosion tipped the vibrant yellow contents into his mouth and slammed the cup back down, muttering, "Anoth- hic- ther."
"Of course, Zix. How many does that make tonight? Eight?" the Larvitar said as he checked the other patrons at the bar and found that the rest were still sipping their drinks. Grabbing a towel, he swiped Zix's glass and started wiping down the insides first before grabbing the appropriate bottles to refill. "At this rate, you could be my only patron and drink enough to pay for monthly upkeep. What's got you down tonight?"
"Nothing, Victor." Looking down, Zix ran a finger along the bar lazily while his head buzzed from the alcohol. "Jusht needing something good to drink is all. Lotsh… lots of it."
"Ah. Issues close to heart. Guess that shouldn't surpr- Ooh. Is that today?" Victor asked, frowning as he gently set the refilled glass in front of Zix. "Sixteen years, if my returning memory is correct? I apologize for not remembering until now."
Nodding, Zix set a paw on the top of the glass and lifted it, idly swirling the contents inside before shifting his paw to the side and gulped the liquor down in one gulp once more. "Yeeeeup… Shixteen years t' th' day now."
Once more, the Larvitar holds out a paw, the Typhlosion hesitating briefly before placing the glass in the rock-type's paw and repeating what he had done nine times over now. This time, though, he grabs a smaller glass and pours the same cider into his own. Lifting the drink, he smiles and taps the glasses. "To a wonderful partner. May she hopefully welcome you with open arms on the next stage of life. Until then," Downing the drink together, they slam the cups down in unison. "I suppose you are my patron for the rest of this life, it seems."
When Zix doesn't answer any requests for a new glass, Victor simply nods and proceeds to attend to his other patrons, returning to the bellowing tavern-songs and leaving the drunk Typhlosion to his thoughts. Staring down at the at his empty glass, the brute of a badger sighs and runs a paw lazily along the rim. Burping once, he places a paw to his mouth in case another came while he looked down at his abused, faded leather rescue bag to fish out the coin to pay for Victor's service before staggering out of the inn and into the streets of Sunrise.
The night was brisk with autumn hanging in the air, seeping with the chill of the fast approaching dead season. However, the cold was hardly the Typhlosion's concern as he stumbled along the illuminated street. With the moon as his guide, he wanders the streets, paying little mind to anything while the drowsiness started creeping like a weed into his befuddled head. By the time the full, silver orb in the sky crested over the houses, Zix found himself at the entrance of Sunrise City's cemetery, an apparent blending of human influence on their flourishing city. In his drunken stupor, the Typhlosion's eyes drifted to the sparse trees that dotted the minefield of headstones, envisioning the trees as mothers caring for their children, bent over and wrapping their branches around the souls that rested in their shadow.
"I miss you, sweetheart…" He whispers to the wind as it stirred the leaves and grass around him. His eyes wander from headstone to headstone until finally resting his gaze on one lonely tree to the west side of the cemetery, seeing someone kneeling over a particular grave. From the back, he watched the midnight-blue fur along the backside ripple with the wind, disturbing small patches of unkempt fur along both sides of the little badger's ears. Walking over, he sits, head drooped. Seeing the vents of the young Quilava glow an angry bright blue, he tries to ignore the coming storm from his daughter by focusing on the headstone in front of them.
"Finally decided to show up. Pay your 'respects?'" The female Quilava mutters, making Zix wince from her biting words. "When was the last time you even bathed yourself? Could smell you from the gates."
Zix remained quiet, head bowed as a few tears dripped down his cheek. When he finally decided to talk, he took a deep breath and whispers. "Can we not do this? Not tonight."
The immediate response was a snort of exaggerated amusement. The smaller 'mon snaps in retort and waves a paw up and down, "You would say that. Still snivelling over your failures of being much of anything to Mother after sixteen years of this."
"Laav! I asked you once already to drop it. We're not arguing about our problems here." He slurs, glaring at his angry daughter. His own tearful, bloodshot stare meets hers before she finally falls silent. "Thank you."
A paw goes to her neck, rubbing at a triangular stone that hung by a simple band of Steelix-grade iron. "You're hardly welcome."
Not having much energy to reprimand Laav again, he casts his gaze to the gravestone before them. Selena Typhlosion it read. A trickle of tears dripped down his fur as Zix mutters, "I shouldn't have let her go exploring with me. She wasn't cut out for that kind of life."
A growl pulled his gaze from the stone tablet, seeing his daughter bristling in anger. However, her gaze still lay on the grave as she snarls out, "I swear by every feather on Moltres wings, if you even start this shit, I'm gonna puke."
"Laav, please, I said to not…" The Typhlosion was immediately silenced by another spout from his daughter.
"She was my family too. And heavens know that she certainly didn't wallow in misery over every thing that went wrong in her life. Did she ever shed a tear when she found out what you and I carry? That I have to wear this damn stone around my neck to keep me alive? Grow up. She's been gone a long time."
"LAAV! ENOUGH!" Steam flared from his nose as he pounced atop the girl, laying Laav out on her back while his vents flared brightly along his neck. "No matter what, I am still your father, and you will not talk to me that way. And don't you dare disrespect her memory like that again!"
When she simply glared back at him, unfazed entirely despite being pinned, he get off and goes back to sitting in front of the gravestone and closes his eyes, losing himself to his grief as more salty tears drip off his cheeks and onto the soft earth below. Laav, on the other hand, dusted her arms and stomach and muttered she had paid enough of respects and walked away without another word. Alone, Zix creeps closer to the engraved stone and lays down before it, whimpering between heaving sobs, "I've tried, dear… I've tried. I miss you so much. I-I-I… I should have seen it coming…"
As his words failed him, the wind continued its hollow, mourning song as it swept over the site once more, a small whistle through the tree above to add to his steady rhythm of sobs while the moon continuing its ascent along the open, starry sky.
Along the far edge of town, beyond the windswept hills of the Haunting Holes, rested Sunrise's most acclaimed Rescuer Operations. A once glistening hut shaped like a Treecko's head stood against the open sky, green leather having faded over years from sun and rain. The light of the full moon shone through the open eyes that pointed to the heavens. Within, a once sleeping lizard rested. Scales as deep a green as the jungle canopy, a tail of fern-leaves cleanly brushed and trimmed of any wayward growth, lay a Sceptile.
One yellow eye open, he gazed up at the moon as it passed over the right window, slowly following its path. After several minutes lying there, one leg raised and bent at the knee, the other leg resting atop it, the lone lizard let out a sigh. Turning over, arms under him, he squeezes his eyes shut as he gets himself up into a kneeling position. Chest flaring in agony, he nearly crashes back onto the flower bedding below him. Catching his balance, though, the lizard lets out one final snarl before finally getting up on his knees, then stands up.
Clutching his burning chest, his hand comes away sticky and red, apparently having moved in just the wrong way to open the wound once more. "That Aggron got me good." He says as he reaches behind him with the same bloody hand.
Grabbing a nodule on his back, his final one, he pops it off his body, briefly cringing from the painful pinch before crushing the orb with a squelch and splattering the juices along two gashes that were openly bleeding once more on his chest. Sighing in relief, the numbness set in as the wind and juice mixed, hardening the sap into a makeshift clotting agent to prevent further injury. Long as the night didn't hold any rainstorms, that should hold so long as he didn't do any serious lifting or fighting.
Stepping outside, the Sceptile hobbles over to his mailbox, pushing the Treecko tail back as the lid flopped down. Grabbing his nightly mail, he sifts through the various job requests that had been asked of him along with the daily and nightly news. One such paper caught his eye, making him shake his head and sigh as he reads.
Bold Intruder Strikes Again.
Rescuers at a Loss on How Jewel Thief Remains at Large
Three months in a row, yet another prized jewel was taken from Pennslo's Private Bank. The Persian describes this theft as "atrocious and irresponsible of the rescuers to ignore his previous pleas on this becoming a serial theft." Threatening to close any future business with the P.R.O., many in the town are now left wondering what the Pokémon Rescue Organization's response will be to new accusations of mishandling job requests all while being ignorant of Sunrise's very own problems. A public statement will be issued later today on what the future of the Rescuers hold and if a new "police" is being considered...
Once he was back inside, the lizard sits at his desk, tossing the mail to the corner before folding his hands together atop the oak slab and resting his head on top of them. Another day of this. Yet another day of the widening rift between the common-folk and rescuers. Raising his head, he leans back on his chair and sighs once more. It was becoming increasingly harder for him to do his job when bandits were quickly taking advantage of the wedge like this within the walls of Sunrise.
His thoughts were shaken when there was a knock at the door. Bolting up and immediately clutching his chest, he stares at the open entrance where his partner stood. Judging by the silhouette's half stooped posture, he was clearly drunk, or coming off the effects of being drunk. Then again, when wasn't he?
"I see you got the mail. That's good. I um, forgot on my way out this morning. We got some gold from my small little rescue this morning. I'd give you your share but…"
"You wasted it all on Victor's drinks. I can smell the apology from over here, Zix." The Sceptile finished. Rubbing his eyes, he gets up and helps his partner over to the bed of flowers in the back of the room. "Just lay down and rest. I'll go get you a pot of water for your head and another for you to drink. Just make sure you don't light this place on fire."
"Suppose that would be a good idea. And I'll try n-ungh..." The Typhlosion stops mid sentence as the strong urge to turn over and hurl nearly overwhelmed him. But when only a small cough came of it, he returns to laying on his back and just closes his eyes. "Please hurry on that."
Nodding, Leaf leaves without another word. Not exactly able to run, he grabs two clay pots at the side of house, both standing about two feet high, before following the dirt road to the east towards the Serpent's Tail River.
Thankfully it wasn't a long walk, and upon hearing the soft sounds of the creek, he breathes a sigh of relief as he sets the mildly heavy urns down, his chest pulsing a steady throb. A small breeze rustled the leaves of the the trees across the river, joining the orchestra of the ambient calls of nature. However, when the sound of a Lycanroc's howl pierced the air, Leaf scanned the banks of the river, searching for the predator that was nearby. Not wanting to tangle with a feral, he got down on all fours, ready to scurry up an oak if need be. When nothing happened, he scooped one pot up with his tail and holds it above his head like a scorpion. Crawling to the river's edge, he carefully turned around to lower his leafy tail into the water. Hearing the cool liquid flow and collide against the walls, he waited until the sounds die down before lifting the pottery up and heading back to the empty one, making sure to tilt the brown urn upward slightly to not lose any water.
Halfway between the river's edge and his remaining empty urn, another howl, this one closer than before and enough to scatter a few Starly on the other side of the creek. Someone, hopefully not him, likely stumbled into its territory, and the dog was on the hunt for it. A little more rushed, he set the first one down, foregoing stealth in favor of speed as he gets back up on his feet and hurriedly grabs the second container, his other hand on his scar as if to pinch the wounds closed. Kneeling at the river, he plunges the urn into the water with a loud release of suction as water spatters around the bank. Muttering to himself in disdain, he says aloud, "Of all the nights I have to be out here, gotta be the night a feral's near," as a third howl sounded. This time though, right after, the heavy footfalls against thick bushes with twigs snapping reached his ears, only climbing in pitch at whatever was across the river was coming this way.
Eyes alert, his head scans the opposite shoreline for the incoming intruder, reasoning a lost or broken urn was a much better sacrifice than his life. His wrist blades thrummed with energy as the partially wilted petals slowly curled out and straightened, now sharp enough to rend flesh from any attacker if need be.
For now, though, he quietly hauls the mostly-full pottery back onto land and slowly drags it through the grass. Eyes on the other bank, he freezes as a Nidorino bursts through the treeline, in full sprint to the river. The poison type stops in his tracks when he sees Leaf, however, both waiting on the other to make any sudden moves. In the few short seconds of silence, they were interrupted as the shadow of a bipedal wolf bursts from an overhanging branch, crashing down with enough force the Nido onto his stomach.
Thinking he was about to watch a gory display of nature, he was shocked to see the bipedal wolf actually yelp and leap off the Nidorino, clutching its chest as in the moonlight, glimmers of some liquid oozed from its fur. In that small aftermath, the Nidorino turns to Leaf and yells. "You mind helping! Or you gonna watch in silence?"
Realizing this was not some feral territory dispute and actually a citizen in danger, Leaf nods and gets up. While most other times he would have happily fought claws to claws, with his injury, he couldn't risk a lucky shot from the wolf ending him. Raising his arms, his body glows and pulses a deep green, the earth rumbling at his silent call as thick vines sprouted out of the around him. As they twisted up to the heavens, each tendril's tip aimed itself against the wolf and proceeded to slam into the ground, getting ever closer to the feral. Realizing it was about to be crushed, the midnight dog stumbled back into the forest while the Frenzy Plant finally slammed at the spot it once was occupying.
Dirt and grass rained from the sky around the impact area, and the Nidorino took the opportunity to plunge into the river and swim over to safety. As the poison type got out and shook his body free of water, he collapsed into a panting mess when no further threat came and grunts. "Thanks. I owe you my life on that one. Thought I snuck by the thing an hour ago. Nearly caught me in the neck when I stopped to enjoy a berry. Despite that, the dog wasn't very smart when he laid squarely on my spikes."
After a few moments, the Nidorino's head lifts up and sees the two pots of water. Pointing a paw at one, he asks. "Seems like a lot to be moving around on your own. Need any help… once I've caught my breath?"
"Certainly not going to say 'no' after all of that. You owe me anyway." Both of them sat there quietly for a moment before a frown crossed the Sceptile's face. "Although, how do you plan on helping?" Leaf asks, not exactly sure how the four legged 'mon would be able to hold either container.
"Mm, guess you have a point. If you feel trusting enough, you could run one back instead of lugging both. Likely be easier on you anyway. That scar looks awful." The Nidorino cocked his head to the side, attention on the Sceptile's chest with eyes running from top to bottom of it with a mixture of wonder and curiosity.
Not having any room to argue on the matter, as he knew he'd be winded lugging both back and at risk of tearing his makeshift seal, he nods and wraps his arms around one, getting a steady hold on the much heavier pot before taking off at a brisk trot back up the path to his home. Not ten minutes later, he returned for the second one, finding the Nidorino lounging by the river, cautiously lapping up something to drink while keeping an eye out for the midnight Lycanroc. Hearing the Sceptile panting, he turns his head and walks over.
"Name's Mark, by the way. And thank you for earlier, now that we both are a little more calm."
Bowing his head, Leaf returned the pleasantry with, "Leaf. Have a hut just up the road if you need a place to stay. Or I can provide you a room at one of the shelters in Sunrise if you'd prefer."
The Nidorino seemed to enjoy that, tail wagging at the prospect of lying in a bed again. "I'd like that, a room at least. Actually was on my way to Sunrise anyway when I thought I could get through the night without complications."
Taking the lead, Leaf beckons for Mark to follow beside him. "Got business in Sunrise? Not exactly the best of times to be visiting our small city. Between bandits and the politics, we don't get many visitors anymore."
"Business. And I'm very much aware of your squabbles. Everywhere on this continent is feeling the capital's issues."
"Regardless, I still needed to come. Meeting an acquaintance of mine who found something old and reached out to me for my assistance. I'm not much of an Explorer or Rescuer, but I do enjoy research and history, particularly objects from the Mists era."
"The... Mists? Not sure I follow." Leaf asked, staring down at his current companion. He looks him over, trying to gauge just how old the guy was anyway. He didn't look any older than an adolescent, given by the lack of any scars of experience along him, yet he sounded as if he was clearly well into adulthood.
The poison type chuckled, bobbing his head as if he wasn't surprised. "Not many know the times before are called that, seeing as you know, that was before writing. But, that's hardly a point these days. The Mists were the times when we, Pokémon as a whole were still in our infancy years of intellectual evolution. Not long after the gods had pulled many of us from humanity and dumped us onto this world, actually. Still feral, many Pokémon relied on their upbringing around humans to progress our species. Crafting, hunting with mixed species, forming villages, even setting aside our prey and predator ways… that was the byproduct of our time with humans and learning from them. But… how can I best put it. Ah, think of it like the bottom of a glass." He says before pausing, looking up at Leaf and stopping in their walk.
His hut was just up the road, but fascinated by the conversation, he sets down the pot and leans against it, intrigued completely and lets Mark continue.
"At the bottom of the glass, when nothing is in it yet, whatever lies beyond it, whatever it is sitting on, is clear to the eye. Even magnified a bit. Interestingly enough, that is nearly the same for what happened as Pokémon evolved into more intelligent beings. The magics of this world, and those the gods use, were made clear after having seen for our own eyes something like mass teleportation or maybe a bit more notable, Exploration Town's discovery and crafting of Species Items. For instance..."
He stops and spits out a small globe onto the ground. Staring at the orb, Leaf realized the thing was barely larger than a pebble while a mosaic of purple and pink swirls curled within it. "My prized treasure and my best reference in studying the past. Keeps the mud and earthquakes away from harming me. Anyway," He laps up the globe, giving Leaf a brief glimpse of seeing it disappear under the poison type's tongue. "back to what I was discussing."
"As the Grass Continent was where most Pokémon were dropped off at, the ones that remained there had time to combine their experiences with humans and the magics used by the gods to craft such things as those items. There's more research on this matter, but it appears we are nearing the end of this walk if that's your house up ahead. So, back on your original question"
The Sceptile shivers as a gust of wind passed over the area, rustling the trees and making some old vines in the trees groan. Mark even stopped and looked around. Never liked the wind around here. Last time I was here, it was even worse than this and much windier than this simple breeze." After a brief moment, they take a few steps up the path until they were about a hundred feet from Leaf's home. "I'll be happy when I get to leave. Anyway, an old acquaintance of mine that lives in Sunrise sent me a letter two week ago that he found something that dates to those times when those artifacts were made or maybe even before those times, believe it or not. I aim to see what this treasure is and find out more about it. That, and my benefactor needs to know that this discovery won't change with the nature order, whatever this is."
Having listening quietly and patiently, Leaf found himself more than a little curious. If everything was to be believed at face value, Mark certainly knew a lot about the subject. Most knew the stories about Pokémon living on their own without humans on this world, but the level of detail this Nidorino seem to know, it is astonishing.
Looking back at his hut and then returning his gaze to his new acquaintance, he asks. "Mind if I join you? As you can see, not a good Rescuer right now until this heals. And once I get these pots to my partner, we can set off. You've certainly piqued my interest. My son actually is much like yourself, and when he gets excited over his own discoveries, I try and make it a point to go see for myself what he finds. Would be remiss of me to not continue such a trend; maybe even tell him what I found out for once."
"Of course. I would be honored. Besides, might even need a helping hand as sadly, until I evolve, I fear I won't be able to touch and examine things on my own with the level of detail required. I'll wait here for now. You do what you need to do."
"Let me get this water to my friend, and I'll be back shortly." Picking up the pottery once more, Leaf lugs it back and sets it beside the previous one: right up against the left side of the entrance. Stretching out his back as he walked in, he sees Zix was seemingly asleep already. Glad it was that and not him gone to get more liquor, he walks over to the desk and grabs a piece of refined charcoal.
Using of the useless bits of mail he got, he writes out, Water's outside by the door. Help yourself to however much of it you need. Just please stay away from the liquor today. We still have to save up money and food for the coming winter.
Laying the note beside his friend, he stops and stares down at the Typhlosion, looking so serene. If only he could be like this when awake too. But, if Zix could find any modicum of peace, he was happy for him. Bending down, he presses his cheek to the fire badger's and nuzzles it softly before getting up, whispering a final, "Sleep well, Zix. May tomorrow bring you good fortune."
Heading out into the now partially cloudy skies, Leaf looks up at the midnight sky and sighs. "Sixteen years is enough time to pay for his sins. Whoever may be listening, please guide him back to happier days again." He had made that request for the last five years, and every year since, it felt like an empty request. The gods didn't listen, least not for him anymore. His time had come and gone many, many years ago.
Jogging back to the Nidorino, he found the researcher staring at the half-rotten lamppost that lead from the city up to his humble abode. "That's been needing replaced for several years now, but by some luck it's still standing."
"Indeed. Certainly curious that despite the appearance, it stands firm. Guessing you know a few things about appearances? "The Nidorino says with a smile. Caught off guard by the question, Leaf doesn't say anything for a moment, only shrugging as his words seemed to have left him.
With that single question, something now bothered him about this newcomer. But, maybe it was just the fatigue of moving that water and the remnants of his exhaustion from his fight the previous night, Leaf lets the thought pass by. "So, this acquaintance of yours. Shall we go see him?
"Yes, we can go see her. Follow me, good Leaf."
